She Paints Me Blue
by angelface04
Summary: It dawns on him that this is a goodbye, and not a see you later. [Angelina x Oliver]


**A/N: Written in anticipation of the 6****th**** Harry Potter Book. Two months, guys. Then it's all over. **

**I can't help writing one-shots guys….shoot me.**

**And the lyrics are, once again, from Something Corporate, one of the best bands in the world. I swear, they sing what I'm thinking.**

**Anyhow…Read …Enjoy…and tell me what you think. **

She Paints Me Blue

…………….

_Tonight I watch the lights go out in your house_

_Wondering how I could get so deep_

_And you could still get to sleep._

_In vain, I blamed my trembling on the cold air_

But I can't hide that I rely onto you 

_Like yellow does on blue_

_-Something Corporate_

……………..

It was freezing. It was freezing and the wind was tugging bitter fingers through his hair and digging into his pea-coat. He shoves numb fingers into thin pockets, staring up at the window. The light's still on, and he holds on to the hope that maybe that means that she's still thinking it over. She can't really mean it, can she?

He shifts, scuffs his trainers on the sidewalk. 67 minutes and counting. His breath is making little clouds in the air and he imagines how much warmer he'd be if she was here next to him. He wants to walk up to the door. He wants to pound on it and scream and cry and beg her to let him back in. Where it's warm.

But his legs are frozen, just like his eyes are to her window and he can't help but replay everything that she said.

"_I just don't know you, anymore."_

It takes his breath away, just remembering. The look in her eyes of absolute solemnity. He wished he'd had time to brace himself.

"_Angelina..."_

"_I gave you a __**year**__ Oliver. I gave you a __**year**__ and what do I have to show for it?" _

He fights to inhale and marvels when it hurts.There's a sharp pain in his chest, just under his ribcage. He wonders if she can see him. He wonders if she's still crying. He's stopped, now.

"_So you're willing to throw it all away, then? Without even giving me a second chance? I didn't even __**know**__…"_

"_Yeah, Ol, I am."_

His head jerks up suddenly as he hears a loud pop by the door. There's a sharp rap, and his eyes narrow, trying to desperately make out who the form might be. The figure shoves his hands in his pockets as the door swings open, and he can swear that he sees a swatch of red hair before the figure disappears inside.

**No.** **No no no no.**

His body freezes and he wishes that it would move, do something, burst in there and demand what, _exactly_,this stranger wanted with **his** Angelina. But he can't. He's still staring at her window, watching, hoping.

_"There's…there's someone else, isn't there?"_

_"No, actually, there's not. I'm just __**unhappy**__ Oliver. You don't seem to __**hear me**__ when I'm talking to you!"_

_"I'm listening to you __**right now**__, love! Why didn't you __**tell me**__?"_

_"I didn't know how."_

_"I don't want to lose you."_

But she's gone. He can feel it in the tips of his fingers and the bitter taste at the back of his throat. She's _long gone_ and he can't stand that. It forces him into mobilty for the first time in 34 minutes. His hand withdrawls from his pocket and covers his eyes. For a moment, he thinks he's going to cry again, but he doesn't.

And then the light goes out.

And no one comes outside.

**No.**

His breath quickens as he waits for the door to open and the stranger to exit. Why would he still be inside if she was going to bed? There really was no explanation to this…unless they had flooed out. There could still be the possibilty of that…

The door's getting closer and it takes him a few moments to realize that he's walking towards it. His legs are moving. For the first time in an hour and fifeteen minutes, his legs are moving.

And then he's there and he's pounding on the door much too hard. He hears movement inside when he finally draws his now throbbing fist away from the door. It's yanked open, and there she is, in all her beauty.

"What are you doing here, Oliver?" Her eyes are calculating but also filled with concern. She's got on sweats and a tank top, so her arms folded to shield herself from the cold. He's staring at her like he's never seen her and he wonders how long it's been since he'd really looked at her like that. "You're shaking." Her voice actually lowers and she looks as if she wants to help him. He shakes his head.

"Just cold out here." He knows she believes him, but he's lying. It's not the cold that's making him shake. Not anymore.

"What do you want?" Back to her icy demeanor. He tries to look past her, but sees only darkness. He looks down, then, back up.

"Tell me that you're alone." She looks startled, then guilty. She laughs without humor, rubs her forehead. "_Please_." He hadn't realized that he was begging until then. She shuts her eyes and when she opens them again they're moist.

"_I can't_." He nods, feels his stomach plummet and his eyes sting.

"So he's up there, huh?" He tries to keep calm but he can feel panic sneaking up on him, sliding past his carefully laid barriers.

"Yeah, he's upsatirs."

"Weasley?" It's almost not a question. He knows. She nods, her hair swishing around above her shoulders.

"Fred." Her voice sounds a little chocked, but not as chocked as he feels. He nods again and tries to swallow around the lump in his throat, but it sticks and he has to clear it to keep from sobbing. She notices and he wishes that he didn't look so vulnerable.

"I should go, then." He turns, the shock and disbelief at all of this suddenly bearing down on him and he feels as if he's about to break. He feels hands on his coat and he pauses.

"I'm sorry, Ol, I really am." He feels his throat constrict and he feels tears in his eyes. Though he fights to keep them from coming down, he can't stop them all.

"You lied to me." He forced out around the lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry," Like that's going to fix it. Like that's going to make it right. Like that's going to be enough to get him through tonight, and tomorrow night, and all of those nights ahead of him when he's going to be sitting in his flat, alone, and thinking of her.

"I thought…" He stops, because he doesn't know if he can get all the way through it. Her eyes look sad, he realizes, but not sad enough to take it back. It dawns on him that he doesn't know what he's going to _do_, now that she's gone.

It dawns on him that this is a _goodbye_, and not a _see you later_.

"I thought that I was going to marry you." It falls out before he can bite it back and she grips the doorway even harder, her dark knuckles turning white. He laughs, then, at himself, because he can't believe he just admitted that to her. "I really did." He adds in a whisper, shoving his hands into his pockets. The degrees are falling quickly and it's now almot frigid outside.

She doesn't reply, because she doesn't know how. She finally realizes that she's the bad guy, and that shakes her up. He takes a step back, willing himself to just make it home, if he can make it home than he'll be alright.

"Ol…" Her voice is shaking and she reaches for him. Her arms are so tempting, so tantalizing and warm that he almost reaches back.

But he doesn't. He shakes his head, takes another step back. This didn't have anything to do with him not listening to her, with him not being there. Those were just excuses. Reasons why he could blame himself and not her. Ways to make him feel like he had been the one who ruined them.

Is this what she'd always wanted? How long had it been _Fred_ instead of _Oliver_? How long had he been living in the dark, waiting for her to get home, and having no idea that she was with him?

What had he done to her? He'd given her _everything_. All he had. And he realizes that all of this time, she'd been holding back. That there was part of her he'd never seen. The part of her that was staring him in the eyes and slowly bringing her hand back down to her side.

"Bye, Lina." He mutters, turning around and making his legs go. He can't look at her. He won't look back, because the sight of her shutting the door would hurt far too much. He closes his eyes breifly and imagines that he hears her footsteps behind him, but the moment passes and he hears the door shut. He takes a look over his shoulder. The bedroom light's on again.

And then, it goes out.


End file.
